Page 48

CHAPTER

TWENTY-TWO

CLARA JUNE

It’s strange. When Troy called, I was hyper focused on creating a plan. A blueprint. An escape strategy both verbally and physically that existed in the event that he actually came back.

But as soon as I shared with Dean and exposed the vulnerabilities of the situation, the weight and stress of worry seemed to be lifted.

“He offered to have me and the boys come stay with him until we’re certain Troy isn’t coming back,” I tell Jackie, dropping a penis shaped ice cube into her wine glass. I pop another mini dick from the silicone mold and hold it up as it melts down my wrist. “Why?”

She shrugs, twisting the rim of my glass in sugar. “It was on sale. It was cute. I like penis ice. Sue me.” After the rim of my glass is thoroughly coated in thick chunks of pink crystallized sugar, Jackie slides it over to me, adding, “Please tell me you said yes.”

I shake my head and pluck a stray flower off my top, one that must’ve floated down from one of the many blooming trees in Jackie’s back yard.

“No, I didn’t. I mean, I definitely want him around all the time…

but… I don’t know. All of a sudden we live with Coach Dean?

How could the boys possibly understand that? ”

Jackie plays with a tendril of her hair that refuses to obey her sleek ponytail, sunglasses balancing on the tip of her nose. “What do you mean, how could they understand? He spends time with you four at your house. The boys see you two together. They know you’re dating, don’t they?”

I shrug. “I mean, yeah, they know but we haven’t really had a talk about what’s going on or what it’s going to look like if it progresses.”

“Not if, but when, because I think we both know you’re gonna end up with a ring on your finger, another baby in that womb while signing your grocery store checks as Clara June McAllister.

So talk to the boys, then move into that man’s house.

” She takes a test sip of her drink, her eyes watering as she swallows.

“And not because of Troy. Because y’all are in love. ”

I shake my head. “We’re not in love. It’s too soon.”

“Sure.” She slides them back up, covering her great cat eye liner and shimmer shadow. “So anyway, I already warned you that I would be extremely unhappy if you didn’t report back on the sex right away.”

I hold my hands up as if to say don’t shoot. “I know, I know but… there’s nothing to tell where that’s concerned. We haven’t slept together yet.”

Jackie dramatically tosses back her way too strong cocktail, finishing it with a cough. “What?!”

I shake my head. “He wants to take it slow. And I do, too. Or… I did. You know, when I wasn’t sure what he wanted and wasn’t sure how to tell him about my orgasmic difficulties.”

One threaded brow lifts. “You said did . You don’t want to take it slow anymore but he does?”

I nod my head and sip my drink, loving the excited flutter in my belly at simply having a partner to discuss.

For the last few years, I’ve listened to all of Jackie’s stories and conquests, but now, I have someone.

I have someone to gush over, to beam about, to talk endlessly about until Jackie wants to vomit. I’m that lucky.

But it also feels borderline like a betrayal to the trust we’re building together if I spill my guts to Jackie about what me and Dean have.

“He just wants to make sure the boys are comfortable with him and I before we get too serious,” I explain, because that’s half the truth.

The other half of the truth? That he thinks I deserve time to be doted on, cherished and worshiped—his exact words when I begged to blow him two nights ago on the couch.

Part of me wonders if he is concerned about it not fitting inside me, but I would think if that were a possibility, he would have told me about the trail of ladies whose vaginas were torn apart by his glorious penis.

I keep the rest of that to myself, though, because Dean wanting to pleasure me endlessly because I deserve it is too good to share. Not right now at least. Maybe a few years down the road, but right now, that truth is precious and sweet, and all mine.

My phone rings just then, and I set down my nearly empty cocktail, answering. “Hello?”

It’s funny. We have been sitting here discussing Troy, but in a way that allowed me to talk about him without actually thinking about him. And here he is, calling. I didn’t even check the caller ID.

“Clara June?”

My eyes dart to Jackie, who mouths his name as a question, earning her a nod.

“What?” Then I think about Dean’s question from the other night, and ask it. “How did you get this number?”

Troy exhales what is likely cigarette smoke. He started smoking when I was pregnant with Archie. “You’re not in witness protection, Clara June. I called a few places, asked about you.”

I put him on speakerphone, allowing Jackie to hear our conversation. “Who gave you my number, specifically?”

“I’m back in Bluebell, you know.”

My stomach twists into frenzied, sickening knots. The back of my neck grows clammy in an instant. I don’t know how to reply, so I don’t. I just keep listening, Jackie, too.

“I’ve been back for a few months, Clara June. Making sure that coach steers our little prodigy in the right direction. When Tanner got hurt, I wondered if his coach was the right man for the job… but after last Friday’s performance, I decided he can keep working with my son. ”

My mind is like a magic bean that has finally been watered, thoughts and ideas all sprouting at once in different directions.

I take a deep breath and focus on what he’s saying, not on the fear, rage and hurt that throttles my existence from this singular phone call.

“He’s a great coach. Tanner loves him. He’s the one helping Tanner sort out his future.

So wherever you’ve been for the last five years, go back.

Bluebell doesn’t need you. Tanner’s football career doesn’t need you. No one here needs you.”

My hands tremble and my body shakes, and when Jackie drops her arm along the ridge of my shoulders, tears leak from my eyes.

It feels so good to finally say those things to him, that we don’t need or want him.

When he left, I wanted him back so bad, only because I was so overwhelmed, so lost with three boys on my own.

But as one day bled into the next, I grew stronger, and more resolute in the idea that I didn’t need Troy.

Not ever. He gave me my babies, but he’s just a season that’s passed now. Nothing more.

“I don’t think we see eye to eye on that fact,” he says to me, having the bold audacity to sound indignant. “And furthermore, I don’t need your permission to see my son.”

“Your son?” I balk. “Your son? You have three sons, Troy, or did you forget? Does it take newspaper articles and the whiff of a football scholarship to make you recognize your children?”

He ignores me, and it’s clear that not only has he not gotten better, he’s gotten worse.

Troy has not evolved in the slightest. “I’ll be Tanner’s agent, after he’s done at the high school.

I’ll negotiate his contracts for him.” He takes a pull from his cigarette, I can hear the embers pop quietly, and then he exhales more hate, more stress.

“A boy can’t trust anyone in this world like he can trust his father. ”

“You’re not managing anything. Tanner wants nothing to do with you, Troy. You left. You left him , remember that?”

“I left you ,” he says, laughter curling his voice, and I imagine red horns rising up in his greasy dark hair, shiny and glowing. Fucking asshole.

“Great,” I deadpan. “You left me. But you left them, too. And you’re not welcome back. Not in my home, their lives, mine, nowhere.” I swallow around the lump of nausea in my throat as Jackie’s fingers attempt soothing strokes along my back. “Don’t call me again.”

I hang up and block his number.

“That was… aggressive and completely out of pocket,” Jackie says finally after we both sit in silence for a moment. I drink the rest of my cocktail—or rather, mocktail, since I’m on my lunch hour.

I get to my feet and so does she, and we share a hug. It’s a little longer than our goodbye hugs usually are, but I can feel Jackie trying to infuse me with strength and hope after that phone call. I push hair off her shoulder and smile.

“Don’t worry. I’m fine.” I hand her back my empty glass, and thank her for the liquor-free afternoon delight. “I gotta get back. I have a double today, too.”

“Need me to get Archie?” she asks.

I shake my head. “Nah. Rawley and Jo Jo are gonna grab him and hang out at Hudson’s this afternoon. They’re watching Bear, Tyson and Archie.”

Jackie laughs. “Anything to avoid washing dishes?”

I shrug. “As long as he pays me back for the tutor and doesn’t sell drugs to do it, I’m okay with babysitting.”

Another hug, and then I’m headed back to Goode’s, another six and a half hours left before I’m off. I smile at the customers, draw happy faces on checks for tables with kids, twist the napkins into the shapes of flowers or dogs, and give my best.

All the while, anxiety claws up my spine and sours my tongue, burning my thoughts.

What if Troy is really back for good?

With just two hours left in my shift, my anxiety is starting to edge its way to the surface, my smiles less bold, my greetings a bit quieter.

And then Dean appears, the door banging on his cute butt, wearing jeans and boots, the reliable sexy cowboy that he is. He’s got on a navy blue pullover, the Bruisers logo embroidered on the chest, and when he spots me from across the restaurant, my chest burns with adoration and longing.

I cross the restaurant to get to him, but he does the same, and we end up toe to toe in an aisle between empty tables. He smiles. And I crash against him, looping my arms around his neck, burying my face in his chest.